


Tokens Exchanged

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Early Days, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8113294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: It's the anniversary of the day Napoleon started working for U.N.C.L.E. [early days fic]





	

**Author's Note:**

> A short and sweet piece I wrote for the 52nd MFU anniversary. Follow up to ["Nocturne of Shadow](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8083396). The reference to the cufflinks is from [this piece](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7584193), and the title reflects that.

Illya had been curiously quiet ever since Napoleon had given him those silver cufflinks for his birthday three days ago. Napoleon hoped that he hadn’t left his partner too embarrassed; it was only afterwards that he realized that he might have left Illya in a position of wondering how on Earth to return the gesture for his own birthday two months later, particularly when Illya was not as affluent as Napoleon was. Napoleon had the money to spend on other people, while Illya’s financial situation could best be described as Spartan. Napoleon hadn’t intended to put Illya on the spot, and he was determined to let him know that as soon as possible.

There was, of course, the other elephant in the room that neither of them had mentioned since their last mission had gone sour in the Black Forest: that Illya had wanted to return to Berlin, but Napoleon had convinced him to stay for a while longer—one more chance to apprehend the Baron of THRUSH. They seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to mention it, but it didn’t stop Napoleon from wondering whether Illya thought that the cufflinks had been some sort of incentive to get him to stay—that most certainly hadn’t been Napoleon’s intention, either. All Napoleon had wanted was for Illya to know that Napoleon appreciated him, enjoyed his company, and very much wanted him around.

The door of their shared office opened, and Napoleon looked up to see Illya walk in, carrying a small, wrapped packaged.

“Someone give you a belated birthday gift?” Napoleon asked.

“ _Nyet_ ; this is for you,” Illya said, placing the gift on Napoleon’s desk. “Mark told me that this was the anniversary of the day you joined U.N.C.L.E., so I decided to get this for you—also as a thank-you gift for these.” He held up his shirtsleeves, which had the silver cufflinks on them.

Napoleon smiled.

“You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Nor did you,” Illya said, quietly. “I… I only regret that I wasn’t able to get you anything as lavish as cufflinks--”

“Illya, please… I got you those cufflinks because I wanted to give you something special for your birthday. I wasn’t trying to show off or…” He sighed; it was time to address the elephant. “…Or try to convince you to stay on if you didn’t want to. I just wanted to let you know that the last eight months meant something to me.”

“They have meant something to me, too, Napoleon,” Illya said, with a wan smile. “Go on, open it.”

Curious now, Napoleon opened the package to find a monogrammed travel kit; within it was a new toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, dental floss, a razor and shaving cream, a small bottle of shampoo, liquid soap, a comb, and even a small bottle of bay rum.

“I thought it would be practical for a field agent who travels a lot and always wishes to look his very best,” Illya said. “And it is compact enough to fit into a small overnight bag. I hope you find it useful.”

“…It’s perfect,” Napoleon said, the emotion noticeable in his voice. It was just so very much like Illya to give a gift like this—practical and thoughtful at the same time. “Thanks, _Tovarisch._ ”

Illya smiled now.

“Here is to many more years of your dedicated service,” he said, gently touching Napoleon’s shoulder.

“Hopefully spent working together,” Napoleon said.

Illya blinked.

“Napoleon…”

“I know I can’t stop you from going back, but I’d… really prefer it if you stayed,” Napoleon said.

“And I already told you I would stay to help you in our one last chance to catch the Baron,” Illya reminded him.

“What happens after that?” Napoleon asks.

“Well, if we fail and the Baron succeeds in either starting a war or setting a THRUSH dictatorship in place, the answer is moot,” Illya said, looking away. “If we succeed… Then, I do not know, Napoleon. I cannot make any promises; as it was Mr. Beldon who allowed my transfer, there is every chance he might decide to call me back—it is not entirely my decision. Furthermore, I am not one to think that far ahead; I concern myself with the here and now. But I have enjoyed working with you; you have an irreplaceable charm that amuses me to no end, and though you make horrible puns, I do enjoy our time together.” He looked back at Napoleon now. “And I would like it to continue.”

“You know what? I’ll take it,” Napoleon said, walking around the desk and then drawing the Russian into a hug. “Thanks again, Illya.”

Illya blinked; it was the first time he had been embraced since… Well, since he could remember. In all honesty, it felt… rather nice. He smiled again and returned it.

“You’re very welcome, Napoleon. And thank you, as well.”

And the both of them were beginning to hope very much that Beldon would not want Illya back in Berlin that badly.


End file.
